


Candy (Stuck on You)

by serein (koshitsu_kamira)



Series: Polaroid Snapshots [3]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Platonic Relationships, Roommates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 12:44:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7439866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/koshitsu_kamira/pseuds/serein
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sicheng is stuck on Taeil, but luckily his sentiments are returned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Candy (Stuck on You)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [berryboys](https://archiveofourown.org/users/berryboys/gifts).



> Title taken from 사탕 (Candy) by Red Velvet.

The streets were deserted at 3 AM, glowing pastel in the faint, early morning sunlight, a prenatural stillness prevailing over the urban scenery, drowning out the cacophony of truck engines, public conveyance, even the chatter inside their van, though, Sicheng mused, that could be explained by the general lethargy characterizing the members’ behaviour, despite the pre-show jitters lurking underneath the surface. Fixing his travel pillow, he peeked at the rearview mirror, surveying the boys sitting behind, each person suspended in various states of reverie, a sleep deprivation induced trance: among them Yuta seemed the most alert, somberly watching the downtown landscape, profile hidden beneath the baseball cap brim; beside him Taeil was listening to music, familiar candy red earbuds flashing vivid, fingers tapping a vague rhythm. As if he had discerned Sicheng’s attention, the elder’s eyes fluttered open, catching his inquisitive gaze, eyebrow raised questioningly, curiosity glimmering sharp within his irises; the younger boy grinned in response, even though the other couldn’t possibly see the action, his only clue the mischievous glance reflected, golden flecks twinkling, set afire by the orange interior light. Amused, Taeil chuckled low, remaining motionless so Jaehyun, who sat cuddled into his side, snuffling minutely while he was napping, wouldn’t startle awake at the sudden movement; then having ascertained that nothing of importance required his immediate care, he returned to the contemplative passivity which Sicheng began strictly associating with him, steady alertness melting away.

Anyone else wearing the same detached aura would have been accused of arrogance, coldness, except Taeil emitted calm, a sure tranquility Sicheng encountered in deserted practice rooms, crumbling stairwells, the rickety stage where he had mastered the elementary dance steps - places he sought out when respite was necessary, despite considering himself a fairly sociable person. Every now and then Sicheng needed downtime since he was predisposed to ignore the fatigue, mental exhaustion in lieu of retreating to his shell, persisting until he became drained from the impulses, energy fully sapped; as an extrovert he detested solitude, thus he tended to gravitate toward restful, composed personalities like Qian Kun, relying on their soothing traits to ground him. Seeing that his friend currently travelled back and forth between the company headquarters, busy preparing for the next unit activities, he naturally drifted into Taeil’s orbit, finding peace near the other boy: the elder didn’t mind his loquacity although he barely understood Chinese speech, nor Sicheng’s constant enthusiasm involving harmless pranks or silly bets, opting to stand on the sidelines, keeping order. Additionally, Taeil made an excellent snuggle buddy, fitting right under his chin while they lay boneless on the younger’s single bed, fluffy hair tickling his neck, legs tangled, wordlessly staring the obsolete television their manager had donated the group out of pity, translating whichever dialogue Sicheng picked, sentences compact, simple, regularly pausing to explain new words. Apart from expanding his modest vocabulary, the elder humoured him by playing the guitar on evenings he refused abiding the bedtime rules, strumming mellifluous tunes until Sicheng fell asleep, tall form sprawled out above the sheets, hold firm on Taeil’s calf, leaving the older boy spread vertically across the narrow mattress, head pillowed on his stomach, cheek mashed against soft skin. During the night they would inevitably shuffle into a messy configuration of limbs, seeking warmth, the comforter having kicked off the narrow bunk, ultimately winding up spooning each other, with Taeil huddled close to Sicheng’s chest, the younger’s arms entwined around his waist, embrace cozy, their dreams sweet, entirely worth the struggle of fighting the blankets every morning.

The members had legitimately given up on rousing Sicheng once they found out what an impossible challenge the act posed - Kun scoffed upon hearing the news, smirk wry, dimple surfacing - therefore the duty was passed onto a gullible Taeil, who wasn’t afraid to lug his comatose teammate through the corridors, support the other’s weight over breakfast or make sure he washed up before leaving the dorm. Getting the younger dressed was a similarly strenuous chore, but the eldest appeared to possess an endless supply of patience, never a complaint escaping his mouth as he rose on tiptoes, combing Sicheng’s freshly dyed tresses, fastening shirt buttons, then ushered the boy outside the room, where the rest had gathered already, scrutinizing the actual schedule taped on their entry door.

Sicheng was aware that he behaved rather selfish, hogging Taeil although both Minhyung and Donghyuk missed his attention, guidance, looking quite upset whenever they caught sight of him loitering in the elder’s vicinity; still, he continued sticking with the other boy, deliberately ignoring the dismayed gazes - compared to the Korean members, he craved more emotional reassurance, affection. For these reasons Qian Kun often called him an oversized toddler, invariably reminding him to keep his unique penchants confidential, a private affair - an advice he took to heart: so far, Sicheng guessed, nobody pegged him vulnerable and clingy, granted the public couldn’t have observed much of him, his exposure tightly controlled, limited on account of language barriers. Since Taeil was predisposed to look after people surrounding him by nature, he wasn’t concerned about the older boy exploiting his weaknesses; in fact Sicheng could freely depend on him regarding protection, reassurance without fearing rejection or disapproval - apparently his kindness didn’t know restraint, which he demonstrated on a daily basis, generosity underlying his unobtrusive presence.

Several rehearsals and pre-recordings later, they were carted to a random waiting room, having instructed when the group should assemble for the final stand by - “half an hour,” said a hassled woman - meaning they were stuck idling for the time being, sweaty, stage makeup suffocating their skin, gaudy accessories, metal chains caught within layers of fabric, brand apparel. Resisting the urge to scratch his itchy scalp, subsequently ruining the fixed hairdo, Sicheng pinpointed the eldest lingering near the corner, monitoring other performances, head bobbing to the moderate tempo; the stylists had managed attiring him in the complete Fire Truck ensemble a while ago, unlike the younger boy who casually wandered around wearing a shirt and leather garters alone, dungaree shorts forgotten on the ground. Taeil smiled at him, fond, as he discovered the younger towering over him, automatically inclining his head slightly backward so they could make eye contact; “Are you nervous?” he queried, letting Sicheng tug on the ring drooping from his collar, obediently following his teammate to the worn sofa, upholstery threadbare - together, they slumped down into the furniture, resulting giggles muffled. “Nope,” he answered, draping his bare legs on top of Taeil’s lap, grin unabashed when the elder frowned minutely, then spread a fleece blanket above his slender thighs, “You will catch a cold,” chided him the other, absently petting the younger boy through the quilt; wriggling his toes, Sicheng shrugged, curling up against the main vocalist, linking their arms, contented, “Hug me, please,” he whispered, imploring, laughing at Taeil’s exasperated sigh -

“You are too cute for your own good, kid.”


End file.
